¡Salsa Espectacular!

¡Esto es un Salsa Espectacular!

Raspberry Pico de Gallo - A slice of Heaven in a bowl
Raspberry Pico de Gallo – A slice of Heaven in a bowl

Open your fridge and look at the door side – Chances are good that what you’ll see there are condiments – in ours, you find mustards, relish, horseradish, harissa, ketchup, mayo, sriracha, and of course, salsa. Those last three illustrate big changes in what folks in this country like and buy most of, in the ever-changing condiment world. In 2011, mayo was King. By 2014, salsa had surpassed all, (for the second time – More on that later), and as of last year, sriracha topped regular old salsa for the win. Interesting, is it not? Think about it and it makes great sense. Sure, the old standbys still star on sandwiches, and as constituents in sauces, salads, and the like – but salsa can do much more than any of those, and, well, sriracha is good with damn near anything.

Of course, salsa is still king, because sriracha is, after all, exactly that – Salsa, and not very different from the predominantly Mexican varieties we’re used to here. I say varieties, but truth be told, us folks up here in El Norte are far from well schooled in the stunning pantheon that is Mexican salsa – And that’s just speaking of Mexico, let alone the rest of Central and South America. Trust me when I tell you that you’re really missing something spectacular if that’s the case for you. Today, we’re out to fix that.

I’ll provide links to several recipes that you’ll find here, and add a few new ones as well. The rest of this is kind of a primer, designed to hopefully show you something new, pique your interest, and get you digging for a variation you can call your own. You’ll also notice I’m not going to describe a whole lot of parings, and that’s done on purpose – What you like salsa on – what kind on what things – That’s your gig, and discovering for yourself is a hell of a lot more fun than reading what I think you should eat, yeah?

Many Americanos assume that the term salsa is purely Mexican, but it’s definitively not. Salsa means ‘sauce’ in Spanish, Italian, and Greek. The term derives from the Latin word ‘salsus’, meaning salted. I think it’s an interesting fact that, while touched with sweet, heat, herbs, and spices, it’s still that salty, savory bass note that defines the salsa rhythm section. Of course, sauces didn’t start out that way anywhere that lacked tomatoes – That makes the salsa we’re used to a true native of Mexico, Central, and South America. It wasn’t until the Spaniards caused all their mayhem in the new world that the tomato made its way over to Europe, and then basically conquered the world.

Salsa began with the Aztec, Inca, and Mayan peoples. The Spanish were intrigued, and termed the piquant blend of tomatoes, chiles, herbs, and spices ‘salsa’ as far back as the late 16th century – Then they took it back home with them. While those three legendary civilizations largely didn’t survive, their salsas did, and continue to flourish throughout the Americas. It’s these Mexican staples that largely flavor things up here in the north.

One version of the stuff, ubiquitously known as ‘hot sauce,’ ( Basically chiles, vinegar, and salt, AKA, what’s in sriracha), caught on quite early here in America – Maybe earlier than you’re aware of – That’s particularly interesting in light of the fact that, by the mid 20th century, a fair number of those chiles and brands were very hard to find, having been driving out by post WWII food homogeneity. Yet the first bottled hot sauce, powered by cayenne chiles, was offered for sale in Massachusetts, back in 1807. In 1849, Louisiana banker Colonel Maunsell White planted the first crop of Tabasco chiles north of the border – Ten years later, Maunsell marketed the first bottles of ‘Tobasco’ chile Sauce, and Edmund McIlhenny plants some seeds obtained from Maunsell on his property – Avery Island, Louisiana. In 1868, McIlhenny poured his aged sauce into used cologne bottles and sent it out as samples, resulting in thousands of orders. By the 1860s, you could buy bird chile powered sauce in New York City. By 1898, a former McIlhenny employee started up B. F. Trappey & Sons, and another legendary sauce was born.

¡Salsa Espectacular!
¡Salsa Espectacular!

In 1917, Henry Tanklage introduced La Victoria Salsa Brava, a traditional Mexican style salsa still in production today. La Victoria’s red, green, and enchilada sauces, along with Old El Paso, (which was formed in 1917, but didn’t start making Tex-Mex stuff until 1969), are the stuff that introduced generations of gringos to Mexica and Tex Mex cooking. It’s reasonable to say that the full circle of originators can be closed with David and Margaret Pace’s introduction of his namesake salsa in 1947. Pace noted that, “In ’47, my sauce bottles exploded all over the grocery shelves because I couldn’t get the darned formula right.” Those were simpler time, without a doubt. By the mid 1980s, the salsa craze was in full swing, and by the early ’90’s, salsa outsold all other condiments for the first time.

Salsa, as most of us know it, is a play on Salsa Roja, a tomato based, cooked salsa, usually containing onion and chile, with hints of garlic and cilantro. It’s what you get when you sit down at damn near any Mex joint in the U.S. As simple as it is, the range of quality and taste is huge. I argue that you can reliably learn much about the restaurant you’re about to patronize by how good that first dish of salsa is – If it’s inspired – nuanced, with obvious care given to balance and the overall flavor palette, you’re about to eat good food. If it’s dull, lifeless, tastes old or made from crappy ingredients, well… I’ve been known to get up and go elsewhere. The lions share of American store bought salsa is salsa roja, regardless of how schmancy it may sound. Other popular roja derivatives include ranchera, taqueria, and brava. Many, many derivations on this theme have been made and are sold, most of which feature various levels of heat, (from mild to truly stupid), roasting of the constituents, or exotic additions. Those are all great, but if you find something you like, what’s far greater is for you to dissect that recipe and make one of your own – That’s what the folks who sell that stuff did, so why shouldn’t you?

Pico de Gallo - Delicious, whatever the root of the name
Pico de Gallo – Delicious, whatever the root of the name

Probably the next most well known version is Pico de Gallo, which literally translates to ‘rooster’s beak.’ There are competing tales for the origin of the name, from the fact that serrano chiles kinda look like a birds beak, to the ‘chicken feed’ consistency of well made Pico, to the early propensity to eat it by grabbing a pinch between dialing finger and thumb – You get to decide on that one… Pico is a Salsa Cruda, raw salsas that need nor want cooking. From a straight mix of tomato, onion, chile, and cilantro, to blends made with corn, fruit, seeds, nuts, or more exotic veggies, they’re a delight and a must make. Our raspberry Pico is stunningly good, and illustrates why you see some kind of acid in most of them – Be it citrus, mango, berries, or a splash of vinegar, that slightly sweet counterpunch and bite makes amazing things happen.

Salsa Verde, is, of course, green. Verdes are usually cooked sauces made with tomatillos, that pre-Colombian Nightshade relative native to pretty much everywhere in the Americas except the far north. Tomatillos have a bunch of pectin, so they gel up nicely and form a rich Sauce that sticks to what you put it on. Mixed with chiles, onion, garlic, and cilantro, they have a sublime, early flavor that goes well with many things.

Salsa Ranchera is a roasted red sauce made from tomatoes, chiles, and a spice blend. It’s typically blended to a smooth consistency and served warm. If you’re making huevos rancheros, it’s a must have.

Salsa Negra
Salsa Negra

Salsa Negra is not well know up here, but it should be. A combination of chiles, garlic, spices, and oil, it’s pungent and delightful, more like a Mexican style harissa or sambal than a salsa roja, and is much more potent. See our recipe below.

Farther south, there are many iconic salsas, some of which we’ve covered, and some you need to check out.

Chimichurri, that delightfully pungent mix of parsley, onion, garlic, and chiles in oil and vinegar, is the most popular thing in Argentina and Uruguay, and for good reason. Here’s a recipe for you to try.

Salsa de Lazano - Costa Rican gold
Salsa de Lazano – Costa Rican gold

In Costa Rica, the ubiquitous table condiment is Salsa Lizano, a smooth, delicate brown sauce that is, frankly, highly addictive. There’s a recipe below.

In Peru, the go to is Peri Peri. Its more like harissa than most South American salsas, mainly because the most fiery and traditional version is powered by African birds eye chiles, which truly do pack a wallop. You can make it with less incendiary stuff, and many folks down there do. Recipe down below for you.

And then, from the Caribbean, Cuba, and the Yucatán, there’s mojo, the heavenly marinade that powers great carne asada – You’ll find that over on this page.

So, there you have it, a salsa map to go wild with. Tonight, I’m gonna do pork tenderloin tacos, with two fresh picos, one corn, one berry – What are you making?

 

Carrot Salsa

1 Pineapple
1 large Carrot
1/2 small Sweet Onion
1-2 Jalapeño Chiles
1/4 small Red Bell Pepper
5-6 sprigs fresh Cilantro
1/2 fresh small Lemon
1 teaspoon Lemon Thyme
Sea Salt and fresh ground Pepper to taste

Peel, core, trim pineapple, and dice 2 Cups.

Peel, trim and grate 2/3 Cup of the carrot.

Peel, trim and fine dice the onion and pepper.

Trim, devein and de-seed the Jalapeño, (or leave all that if you like the heat, and you can always use hotter chiles – I should write this into every recipe, just for David Berkowitz – The DB Rule 😄)

Mince the Cilantro.

Throw all that into a non-reactive mixing bowl. Add the lemon thyme, lemon juice, and zest. Season lightly with Salt and Pepper.

Refrigerate covered for at least an hour, then remove, remix and taste – Adjust seasoning as needed.

 

Salsa Negra

EThis stuff was born to power rice and beans, as far as I’m concerned, but it’s incredible on a whole lot more than that – Put this on roasted Brussels sprouts and suddenly, you live Brussels sprouts…

8-10 cloves Black Garlic (Readily available at many Asian groceries and online, this aged Garlic is more intense, sweeter, and notably darker, hence the name – It is basically slowly caramelized over a long period of time, and it’s amazing. If you don’t have that and the jones hits you, see below)
8-10 cloves fresh Garlic
2-4 fresh Chiles, (Guajillo, Serrano, or Árbol if you can get them, if not, use 1 ounce of guajillo and árbol each, reconstituted)
3/4 Cup Avocado Oil
1 Tablespoon distilled White Vinegar
1 Tablespoon Agave Nectar
1 teaspoon Cumin seed.
Sea Salt

* If you don’t have black garlic, in a heavy sauté pan over medium heat, add a couple Tablespoons of avocado oil and allow to heat through. Stem and peel a whole head of garlic, and slice big cloves in half. Pack a nice, solid layer of garlic onto the pan and reduce heat to medium low. Keep an eye on things and stir occasionally. Let the garlic cook until it’s deeply browned, aromatic, and soft, then use that for the recipe.

Peel, trim and mince black and fresh garlic.

Stem, seed, and devein chiles, (Or apply the DB rule)

Pulse the Cumin seed in a spice grinder until their roughly broken up, but not powdered.

In a heavy sauce pan over medium heat, add the oil and allow to heat through. Add the chiles and cook for 5 to 7 minutes, until the chiles start to brown and and are quite fragrant.

Remove from heat and pour into a non-reactive jar or bowl. Add the garlic, vinegar, agave, cumin, and a teaspoon of salt. Mix well, then allow to cool, covered, to room temperature.

Will last for a couple of weeks in clean glass, refrigerated.

 

Salsa Lizano

1 1/2 Cups Vegetable Broth
1-2 Chiles, (Guajillo or Serrano are both good)
1/2 small Sweet Onion
2-3 Baby Carrots
1 Tablespoon Agave Nectar
1/2 fresh Lemon
1 Tablespoon distilled White Vinegar
2 teaspoons Blackstrap Molasses
2 teaspoons pickling Salt
1/2 teaspoon ground Cumin

 

Peel, trim, and fine dice carrot and onion.

Stem chiles, cut in half, then devein and deseed.

In a heavy skillet over medium high heat, add the chiles and pan roast for 3-5 minutes until they start to blister and get quite fragrant.

Add the veggie broth, onion, and carrot. Allow to heat through until it simmers, then reduce heat to medium low and simmer for about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool for a few more minutes.

Zest lemon half.

Strain the cooked veggies, reserving the broth. Add veggies to a large mixing bowl.

Add Agave Nectar, vinegar, lemon juice and zest, molasses, cumin, and salt to the mix.

Add 1 cup of the reserved broth to the bowl.

Process with a stick blender, (use your regular blender if, gods forbid, you don’t have a stick). Blend to a smooth, even consistency. If you want super smooth, run the processed sauce through a single mesh strainer, otherwise just leave it rustic.

It’ll last a good two weeks in clean glass, refrigerated.

 

Peri Peri Sauce – Peruvian Rocket Fuel

1/2 Cup African Birds Eye Chiles, ( árbol, birds beak, cherry, or red serranos will work fine too)
1 Red Onion
8 cloves Garlic
2 small Tomatoes
1 small Red Bell Pepper
1 large Lemon
3 Tablespoons Cider Vinegar
2-3 Tablespoons Avocado Oil
1 Tablespoon Agave Nectar
2 teaspoons Smoked Paprika
2 teaspoons Sea Salt
1 teaspoon Mexican Oregano
1/2 teaspoon ground Black Pepper
2 Bay Leaves, (Turkish or California, as you prefer)

Place whole chiles, onion, bell Pepper, chiles, and peeled garlic on a rimmed baking sheet under a high broiler. Broil for 2-3 minutes, until veggies start to blister, then turn – Repeat until all sides are done, remove from heat. Once the veggies are cool enough to handle,

Stem, seed, and devein chiles and bell pepper, mince garlic, fine dice onion, chiles, and pepper.

Set up to blanch tomatoes- One pot of boiling water, with an ice water bath next to that. Pop the tomatoes in for about 30-45 seconds, then remove with a slotted spoon and immerse them fully into the ice water bath until fully cooled.

Remove tomatoes, peel of skins, and rough chop.

Zest and quarter the lemon.

In a heavy sauce pan over medium heat, add all prepped veggies, agave nectar, paprika, salt, pepper, oregano, and bay leaves. Mix well, bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to just maintain that, and cook for 25-30 minutes.

Remove from heat and allow to cool for about 10 minutes.

Add cooked ingredients to a blender vessel, then add lemon juice, and vinegar, then process blender until the sauce is nice and smooth.

Finally, while processing add a slow drizzle of oil, allowing the sauce to take it up at its preferred rate.

You may run it though a single mesh strainer, or leave it rustic.

It’ll last a good week refrigerated in clean glass.

Try it on chicken, pork, or burgers.

 

 

Almost there…

The older we get, the longer things take. And when for the last few years you’ve been squeezed into a tiny, disfunctional kitchen with shitty appliances and no room for more than one person to cook, getting an amazing, brand new kitchen is a little slice of heaven.


One week after the move, we’re not done in the kitchen, but we’re really close, and we’re really excited! This is where the magic happens, going forward, and as I alluded to, there’s a couple more changes here in the wind – More on that later.

M and I agreed that this is and will be a serious working kitchen, a production kitchen for things here at the website, so we took our time, discussed things in depth, and decided together how to to arrange everything. And in a word, it’s magnificent. Wanna talk storage? This alone is a 12 cabinet pantry, 24″ deep, with tons of space for stores. There are drawers and cabinets and display places everywhere – it is so cool.


The basic triangle is, in this iteration, a square, and it’s marvelously functional – defined by fridge, stove, sink, and island, there’s plenty of room for collaboration, and for guests to hang and watch.

And speaking of hanging and watching, the kitchen is open to the living room as well – I seriously dig this.


And naturally, if you’re here with any frequency, you know where my heart is – Testing, designing, refining – And here’s the new nerve center for that process.


So thanks for being here, thanks for your patience and kind words through the transition, and stay tuned – It’s about to get really, really good.

The Dutch Oven – It’s Must Have Kitchenware.

There are tens of thousands of threads, posts, and pages out there describing exactly what you absolutely, positively must have in your kitchen – And no two agree completely. That might be a good or a bad thing, depending on ones desires, budget, and available space. Arguably, the lions share of such information deals with cookware, and I’m ready to boldly wade in. What you absolutely need is cast iron, and if you had to pick one piece over all others, it should be the Dutch oven – It’s must have kitchenware.

The roots of the modern Dutch oven
The roots of the modern Dutch oven

First off, what exactly is a ‘genuine’ Dutch oven? The answer is, there are several, and most of them aren’t Dutch any more. In essence, it’s a flat bottomed, fairly deep, (typically 3″ to 5″), thick walled, (read, heavy), pot with a nice, snug lid. Past that, it’s called many things – Whether it’s a Dutch Braadpan, Aussie Bedourie, South African Potjie, an Eastern European Chugun, or a North American Dutch Oven, they’re pretty much the same thing and used similarly – that means that everything from stewing and roasting to baking and boiling gets done in this one marvelous pot.

There are dozens of folks tales about how the Dutch oven got its name, but here’s the straight skinny – Back in the 1600s, the Dutch refined the process of casting metal cooking pots by employing a dry sand mold, which yielded a notably smoother finished surface than what they’re neighbor’s were producing – That made using and cleaning them much easier, and once the rest of Europe got a taste, serious importation of the pot began and grew. In the dawn of the 18th century, Englishman Abraham Darby refined the casting process further by fueling a blast furnace with coke rather than charcoal, opening the way for cast iron cooking vessels. In a nod to the folks he learned the sand mold trick from, he called the pot he cast, (similar to a braadpan), a Dutch oven, and the rest is history. At his Cheese Lane Foundry, an apprentice named John Thomas further refined the molding process, employing a casting box and core that allowed relatively thinner and lighter pots to be produced. They were so successful that Darby enjoyed a virtual monopoly on the trade well into the 1700s – It was his wares that first made their way to North American shores.

So, what are they made of? While plain cast iron rules in North America, those Dutch braadpans are much more likely to be enameled steel. There are cast aluminum versions, and the legendary Le Creuset enameled cast iron French Oven has legions of fans – And for the record, technically, an enameled Dutch oven is a French Oven – It’s a formal nod to that famous company that first produced the combination.

Once the Dutch oven hit our shores, changes were inevitable. Shallower, wider pots prevailed over their English forebearers. Stubby legs appeared, to allow coals to be placed beneath the oven, and a flat, flanged lid followed, so that coals placed on top of the oven stayed there, and out of the food. Both those innovations are widely attributed to Paul Revere, who did indeed own a foundry, and who’s name graces a line of cookware to this very day, but beyond everybody saying he did it, I couldn’t find one solid confirmation of the legend. Bailed handles, lids with handles, and various other iterations followed, and remain available to this day. Check out the website for the ubiquitous Lodge foundry, and you get the picture. Dutch ovens were almost exclusively made of cast iron here, and were considered so valuable a commodity that they were religiously passed on from generation to generation, often to a specific recipient. As the country grew, Dutch ovens traveled, starting with the Lewis and Clark expedition, and they’re very much still with us.

So, with all that history and all those options, you don’t have one in your kitchen? Or worse yet, you do, it it’s gathering dust, unused? Time to remedy that. If you don’t have one, I’m gonna say again, you need to invest in one, and in investment is literally what you’re making – Just as it was back when, a good quality Dutch oven, properly maintained, will serve you for a lifetime, and then be ready to be handed on to future generations. If you’ve got one and aren’t using it, time to get it down, inspect it, clean it, and put that puppy to use.

Now, if you’re buying, what should you get? That depends on what your predominant use will be, and how many people you typically feed. The first decision is new or used – Either is fine, but don’t expect to readily find a killer cheap deal on first class vintage cast iron – Those days are largely gone, although if you’re not in a hurry, and diligent about searching garage and estate sales, eBay, and Craig’s List, you can still find a decent bargain now and again.

Lodge L8DD3 - Our go to Dutch oven here at UrbanMonique
Lodge L8DD3 – Our go to Dutch oven here at UrbanMonique

If you’re going to buy, you’ll be hard pressed to do better than Lodge – There’s a reason they sell more cast iron than anybody else – They’ve been doing it since 1896, and their products, service, and designs are tried, tested, and top notch, (There are other fine makers, so poke around before you land.) If you’re cooking for 2 to 4 folks, a 10″ oven will do just fine. More than that, and you’re going to be better off with a 12″ pot. If your primary use will be your home kitchen, with an occasional foray to the camping world, you’ll be well served by a Lodge L8DD3, a 10″ 5 quart, double Dutch oven with a domed, handled cover that doubles as a skillet at the campsite. Between the 4.5″ depth and the domed lid, you can get a lot of stuff into this oven – I know, ’cause this is the one we own and use here, and the one I got for my Sis, so yeah, I think that highly of ’em – And if you’re a regular visitor here, you know that’s no bullshit, because you’ve seen this very model working here many, many times. One caveat – The L8DD3 doesn’t have legs or a baled handle, so you need to be a bit more careful around a campfire, but I assure you there’s not much you can’t do with it out in the wild – and speaking thereof…

Lodge L10DCO3 - A perfect camping oven
Lodge L10DCO3 – A perfect camping oven

If you’re looking for an oven specifically to camp with, then you’ll do better with a Lodge L10DCO3, what they call a camp oven – This guy features everything you want in an oven that’ll get used predominantly with coals – Legs, bale handle, and that possibly Revere designed flat, flanged lid. Those attributes are important because, when cooking over coals or wood, you need to be able to effectively distribute heat in different ways, depending on what you need the oven to do. A few years back, I wrote a piece about camp cooking with a Dutch oven, and you’ll find that right here – It’ll provide plenty of specific info on how to vary the number and placement of coals or briquettes to achieve effective baking, roasting, or simmering when you’re out at the campsite.

And as for that versatility I mentioned a while back, suffice it to say that there’s truly not much you can’t do with this oven. From soups and stews, to braising and roasting, sautéing or baking, a cast iron Dutch oven will provide dependable, even heat and consistent performance. And then there’s the certain je ne sais quoi imparted by cooking in cast iron – Everything tastes a little better, at least to me it does, and frankly, I can’t think of a better reason to use one, (and not a single reason you wouldn’t.)

As with all good cookware, cast iron requires care and maintenance. Rather than repeat the mantras, I’ll just point you to Lodge’s page for seasoning, and for care and maintenance – Do what they tell ya, don’t do the stuff you shouldn’t, and that oven will serve you and yours for decades to come.

NOTE: Because, without fail, somebody always gets in touch and asks how much, in this case, Lodge gave or paid me, rest assured – We don’t take freebies, and we don’t get paid by purveyors – We bought our stuff, just like you do, every time, no exceptions.

Arroz de Carreteiro – Coachmen’s Rice

My friend Ken Bonfield posted about making humble black beans and rice on a Monday – This Monday – and that prompted this re-do of a big time fave of mine –

Ever since humans have been a thing, we’ve taken steps to make our sustenance portable. Being natural omnivore, it’s a safe bet that we’ve always been grabbing a handful of berries here, a hunk of grain there, maybe a little hunk of meat, and stuffing it all into a leaf so that we could take it with us.

Some of the most iconic snacks and meals that remain to this very day are perfect examples of this – Pemmican comes to mind – a high calorie mix of meat, fat and fruit designed to be portable and supply a serious dose of power on the road. Go farther back and you get the Mongols, who depended on meat and dairy from their animals to power their travels – And from there came yoghurt, and meat for soups and stews.

Virtually anywhere you look, our ancestors were drying, (or salting), and then combining the stuff they liked to eat so that it would be easier to take it out on the road – Doing so significantly reduced the consequences of not being lucky on a forage or hunt far from home, a situation that could be quite dire, indeed. From that legacy comes a world of one pot meals designed to efficiently use what’s available, and make it good. From jambalaya and gumbo, to paella and bouillabaisse, the manifestations are as broad as our appetites.

In the southwestern United States of the 19th Century, that history manifested in chili, a one pot meal of dried meat and chiles reconstituted with water and heated through. It packed calories, spiritual heat, and kept many a cowboy content during cold nights on the range.

Farther south, all the way down to southern Brazil, there’s an analogous food history. There, men driving ox carts across what is now known as the State of Rio Grande do Sul, were known as Carreteiros, or coachmen. They too had a signature, portable staple – Arroz de Carreteiro – Coachmen’s Rice.

Where Tex-Mex chili in its pure form simply blends meat with heat, arroz de carreteiro was initially just jerked beef, rice, and water, heated in an iron pot over an open fire. It was fast, easy, and filling, everything a gaúcho needed. The dried meat was known as Charque, a local specialty from the coastal part of the region.

Today, a Gaúcho is what folks from Rio Grande do Sul are known as, and their signature dish has, like chili, grown to something more than its humble origins. Arroz de Carreteiro is made with other cuts of beef, even leftovers, for which the dish is ideal. It’s still a hearty, savory, delicious meal, even way up here in Los Estados Unidos. This is, in fact, a fabulous dish to make camping, over coals from a real fire – that combination of cast iron and wood-fired heat is pretty unbeatable. If you go that road, you’ll want 75% of your coals under the ditch oven, and 25% on top. Finally, this can also be made with wild rice, and that makes things a whole ‘nuther level of amazing – The complex, smoky nature of really good wild rice makes an unforgettable meal.

Arroz de Carreteiro – Coachmen’s Rice
Serves 4 to 6

8 ounces Beef, (trimmed Chuck is my choice)
8 Ounces Long Grain Rice (or wild rice)
2 Roma Tomatoes
1 each Green, Red, and Yellow Bell Peppers
1 small, sweet Onion
2 Spring Onions
2 cloves Garlic
2 Tablespoons Avocado Oil, (Peanut oil works well, too)
2 Tablespoons fresh chopped Parsley
1 Tablespoon Black Pepper Corns, (fresh ground is fine)
2 teaspoons Sea Salt
1 teaspoon Sweet Smoked Paprika
Optional:
1 teaspoon dried, hot chile flakes or powder

Smash the garlic cloves under the flat side of a chef’s knife. Remove the peels and nibs.
In a molcajete, (or mortar and pestle), grind together the garlic, salt, and pepper, then set aside for flavors to marry.

Garlic, salt, and pepper

Garlic, salt, and pepper

Trim excess fat from the beef, and dice it into larger bite sized pieces, about 1/2″ square.

Rinse all produce. Stem and seed the peppers, peel the onion.
Dice the peppers, onion, and tomatoes, (about 1/3″ pieces).
Peel and trim the spring onions, then cut them into thin wheels.
Chiffonade the parsley.

Veggies

Garnish

In a cast iron Dutch oven, (or sauté pan with a tight fitting lid), over medium high heat, heat the oil until very hot.

Add the onions and sauté for about one to two minutes, until they begin to brown.
Add the seasoned garlic paste and stir to incorporate.

Gorgeous local beef

Add the beef and paprika; continue to sauté over high heat for two to three minutes more, stirring steadily, until the meat is evenly browned.

Add the peppers and tomatoes and stir to incorporate.

Arroz de Carreteiro

Now add the dry rice to the mix, and stir well to incorporate.

Arroz de Carreteiro

Add water until all ingredients are coved by about 1″ of water.

Arroz de Carreteiro

Allow to mixture to come to a boil, stirring sparingly.

Cover the oven or pan and and reduce heat to low, just enough to maintain a simmer.

Simmer for about 20 minutes, or until almost all the water has been absorbed. If the dish seems dry, or the rice a bit too chewy, add more water.

Arroz de Carreteiro

Once the rice is nice and tender, serve piping hot, garnished with parsley and spring onions.

image

Puerco Pibil – Yucatán Magic.

My friend Shane is a fine cook in her own right, especially so since she lives on a moored boat in the Skagit river and has a teeny, tiny little kitchen. The other day, she posted about ‘A splash of tequila for the puerco pibil and one for the chef,’ and a lightbulb went off. It’s been a long, long time since I’d prepared this delightful Yucatecan specialty.

The heartbeat of this recipe is the marinade and the low and slow cooking method – Things as old as the land it springs from – the word Pibil may well stem from the Mayan noun for roast, but it’s come to mean the specific marinade used for this dish. The pinnacle of the art is Cochinita Pibil, a suckling pig wrapped in banana leaves and cooked low and slow in a pit dug in the ground, with hot rocks as the heat source – Very similar to traditions from the Caribbean, and Pacific Islands, among other hot spots.

The rocket fuel here is a highly acidic marinade, Pibil, focused on bitter orange, (AKA Seville orange) – That’s pretty legendary stuff, and for good reason – It originated in Southeast Asia, but has taken root all around the world as cooks have discovered its legendary qualities and transplanted variants across the globe. Bitter orange is the go to source for British marmalade, as it has very high pectin content and sets quite firmly. Bitter orange came to the Yucatán via the Spanish, stayed and spread somewhat – It’s found throughout the Caribbean, Florida, and other parts of the American Deep South. Up here in Washington State, not so much, as with a lot of the temperate north. You can get marinades and such that call themselves bitter orange, but frankly, that stuff is kinda like blended scotch – Two cups of Glenlivet in a barrel of grain alcohol. Finding pure bitter orange juice is harder and rarer, so we’re forced to approximate, which thankfully isn’t too hard to do.

Annatto de Achiote
Annatto de Achiote

The other vital leg to pibil is Annatto, the seed of the Achiote tree, also known as the Lipstick tree. Annatto is widely used as a food coloring – It’s what makes cheddar yellow in many iterations, but that’s selling it short. Annatto is subtle, but necessary in a whole bunch of Mexican recipes, and for good reason – I’ve heard it described as smelling like cinnamon or nutmeg, but I’ve never found those notes – What it imparts to me is a base earthiness, with hints of nuts and pepper – It’s hard to describe, but the fact is, if it’s missing from a recipe to which it’s seminal, like pibil, then you know right away, and the recipe just ain’t right.

The other musts for this recipe are a proper marinating phase, and a relatively low and slow cook, both of which are easy to do, either inside or out. Here’s our take on this classic dish. Note that we leave you wide latitude in the heat constituent – As with many things, there are plenty of recipes out there touting hefty amounts of seriously hot chiles for pibil, and frankly, that’s not how it’s typically done down south. If you want to make it nuclear, go for it, but know that the true beauty of pibil is the marriage of all the ingredients, without one swamping the rest – And for the record, I used fresh Fresno chiles and they were lovely.

One final note – Annatto is, as described, a colorant, and a pretty potent one at that – It will color your skin, your sink, your counter tops, and anything else it gets in contact with, so be cognizant and careful.

Puerco Pibil de UrbanMonique

2 Pounds Pork Roast, (Butt, Shoulder, Loin are all fine.)
1 Small Lemon
1/2 Cup Orange Juice
2 Tablespoons Cider Vinegar
2 cloves Garlic
2+ whole Chiles (anything from Anaheim to Habañero)
2 Tablespoons Anatto seed
1 teaspoon whole Black Pepper Corns
1/2 teaspoon Cumin seed
2 Whole Cloves
3 Allspice Berries
2 teaspoons Sea Salt
2 Tablespoons Tequila

As we always note, it’s best to use whole spices, and I trust that you are – If not, just roll with it.

Zest the lemon and add that and the juice to a non-reactive mixing bowl.

Add the orange juice, vinegar, and tequila.

Combine all dry ingredients in a spice grinder, or mortise, and process/grind to a fine, consistent powder.

Add all dry ingredients to the wet and blend thoroughly.

Pibil - Yucatán rocket fuel
Pibil – Yucatán rocket fuel

Cut pork into roughly 1/2″ chunks, and transfer those to a one gallon ziplock bag.

Cut your pork to roughly 1/2" chunks
Cut your pork to roughly 1/2″ chunks

Pour the marinade into the bag and seal, then shake to thoroughly coat the meat.

Marinate for a minimum of four hours and as long as six – Don’t exceed that, as the degree of acidity in the pibil can and will make mush of your meat if you let if work too long.

Preheat oven to 300° F

Preferably, you want cast iron, or enameled cast iron for the cooking vessel. Choose something that will not let the meat spread out too much. Pour the meat and marinade into the dish/pan and tamp it down lightly. Cover with foil.

Choose a cooking vessel that's not too big.
Choose a cooking vessel that’s not too big.

Bake for 90 minutes and then check temperature and texture. When your meat is 160° F and fork tender, remove from heat and allow to rest for 10 minutes, covered.

Low and slow Puerco Pibil
Low and slow Puerco Pibil

Serve as tacos, or loose with rice, beans, quick pickled onions, fresh cotija cheese, or whatever else floats your boat.

Gotta have the accoutrement
Gotta have the accoutrement
Tacos de Puerco Pibil
Tacos de Puerco Pibil